



m^ 






S^v?^(§» 



T^:- 




ensationat OTomcb^ 



IN FIVE ACTS, 



YC^ WINTBM 



PRINTED FOR STAGE USE ONLY. 



A Suit for Damages will be Instituted for every TJnauthorized 
Production of this Play. 



Entered according to A.ct of Congress, in the year 1879. by C. WINTER, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 

All rights reserved. 



ALL CORRECT," 



AN 



.A-ZMZEK/icj^nsr 



iENSATIONi^L iOMEDY, 



IN FIVE ACTS, 

BY C. WINTER, 

Rock Island, - - Illinois. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879. by C. WINTER, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 

All rights reserved. 



ROCK ISLAND, ILLINOIS 

1879. 



^ 









CAST OF CHARACTERS. 



Charles Smart Clerk at a Hotel. 

John Diedrickshofen Porter at a Hotel. 

Jenny Chambermaid at a Hotel. 

Johnson A Cigar Manufacturer. 

Frank Short A Kallroafl Engineer. 

Mrs. Schwartz A Washerwoman. 

Clara Holmes Her Adopted Daughter. 

Ml 8. lioseherry A wealthy Widow. 

Isaac Stine A Banker. 

Arabella His Daughter, 

Myers A Broker. 

Turner A Reporter. 

Fred Holmes A Retired Speculator. 

Casper Holmes His brother from the Bonanza Mines. 

Scheppe, alias Count Schdleuhurg 1 

A Policeman '- G uests. 

A Waiter ) 



TMP92-007656 



"ALL correct; 



ACTI.-SCENC I.— Hotel Life. 

ACT II.— SCENE I,— A Disturbed Picnic. 

ACT IIl.-SCENE I.— The Banker's Parlor. 

ACT III.-SCENE Il.-On the verge of Kuin or Rejected, 

ACT IV.— SCENE I —The Fair warning at the Railroad Bridge. 

ACT v.— SCENE I.— All Correct. 

The Scene is placed in a Western City of the United States 
during the Panic of 1873. 

ACT I. 

SCENE I -Office of a Hotel, bar, right Q, E ; desk, R. I. E. ; tables and chairs, L. 
doors C, R. and L. 
When curtain rises, Jenny, broom in hand, is sweeping, C, John is sitting 
asleep in a chair behind the bar. 

Jenny — (Sweeping.) I've got tired long since to work 
for others. At a hotel, though, it might do. Here, I 
am a little more my own master ; but to serve as maid 
of all work in a family where the lady of the house 
rings the bell every five minutes as if she was in hys- 
terics. No, this wouldn't do for me, I ain't green 
enough for that. I want to be independent — have my 
i^-gular going out days, — tra, la, la, la. 

John, rising from his chair, passes round from behind the bar, coming 
down stage C, behind Jenny. 

Jenny — When the master of the house is getting a 
little Troublesome by showing his feelings we may 
overlook that, but . 

John — {Embracing Jenny from heMnd^ turning her 



round and kissing Iter.) Ha, ha ! The early bird 
r^atches the worm ! 

Jenny — {Swinging hroovi.) You nasty, good-for- 
nothing creature you. When I get after you. you'll 
see. 

John — After myself? I do not allow ladies to go 
back on myself. Ladies every time have got the tirsht 
shtart of me, particular ven dey all so nice as you are, 
Miss Shenny. 

Jenny — Oh, you get away, you blatherskite. You 
had better save your daintiest for the fat cook. You 
are sweet on her, anyhow. 

John — Dis is pure imashination from you. But I 
say, you will go to the picnic viz me this afternoon, 
any how. You will ? 

Jenny — You are a very troublesome man. 

John — Veil, mine heart dosli overliow. I cannot 
help that, but 1 mean it well ! It ish all correct ! 

Jenny — I don't trust no man. They are all deceit 

fill. 

John — Exshept myself! I will be true to you till 
the lasht day of shudshement — but you must go to the 
picnic viz myself. 

Jenny — Well, I don't care^ but only if I get my new 
hat from the millinery store, at half past twelve. I 
will see whether it is ready. 

John— I will escort you, it ish shoost in my dinner 
time, if you will allow me 'i 

Jenny— Is that so ? Well then I will allow you to 
escort me but onl}^ if you pay the bill. Then I'll see 
if you truly love me ? 

John— Truly loaf you ? Of course. (Aside.) This 
is very hard in fact ! (Aloud.) My dearest Shenny, 
my heart beats like a hammer on the anvil on ac- 
count of the expectation, whether that hat is ready or 
not. (Aside.) I will have to make a pleasant face to 
the music. (Kissing Jenny.) 

Enter from L, Charles, Exit Jenny. 

Charles — What, have you got to stand about gos- 
sipping here early in the morning ? I'll make you at- 
tend to your business. John, you go up to room No, 



12 to call the gentleman, who wants to leave by the 
eight o'clock train, and now it is very near seven. 
Didn't I tell you before to call him early? 

John— So, oh ! Yell all right. —[Exit John. 

Charles— ( Goes hehind the desk, taking up paper.) 
Frightful dull business this, to watch the porter and 
chambermaid. Is this the goal of my ambition — af- 
ter having got a college education at Yale — to become 
a hotel clerk ? Let me see whether I cannot find any- 
thing better to employ my time. I'll become a lawyer. 
I'll serve as a clerk first, read law, and then go into 
partnership with another lawyer. He'll attend court. 
I'll attend the office and rope in the clients. I'll soak 
irinto them, you bet ! It'll work like a charm, and we 
make money. I'll write an advertisement right away 
for a prospective partner. May be there is one in the 
paper. (Reads.) 

Enter Holmes, (with carpetbag- in hand,) and Scheppe. 

Holmes — Good morning — I want a room. 

Scheppe — But the best in the house, it is for my 
friend and myself. 

Charles— You can have that, gentlemen, if you pay 
the price for it. 

Holmes — How much is it 'i 

Charles — Two dollars per day, meals extra. 

Scheppe — I'll register for both of us. 

(Writes in register.) 

Ho J.MES— Hurry up, I am tired, and so are you. 
We'll rest a couple of hours. I do not feel quite well, 
my friend. A travel like that from San Francisco 
here fatigues me too much. Yes, when I went to San 
Francisco in sixty-one to try my luck in the gold 
mines I was a better man then. {To Charles.) Well, 
show us our room. 

Charles — Very well, gentlemen, {Turns to go with 
Holmes, L. W. E.) I'll show you the room. 

Scheppe— Now I have got him where I want him. 

Exit Charles, Holmes and Scheppe— Enter Myers and Johnson; Re-enter John. 

Myers— Good morning, John, is breakfast ready ? 
John — No, why, it is only a quarter to seven. 



Myers— This is very bad, according to my appetite 
it might have been eiglit o'clock, for all I know. 

JojiN — You ought to have a better time-piece, then. 

Johnson — A philosopher like you, ought 'to be able 
to stand patiently the cravings of an appetite. 

Myers — This don't agree with my system of phi 
losophy, and it is the most desirable part of it. I eat 
to live, but you live to eat. 

Johnson — You love to cultivate the bubbles of the 
stock-market, and to take in people for fancy stock. 

John — Better than to get cigars manufactured that 
are of as doubtful a quality as your views are on phi- 
losophy. ( They both sat down to the table. L. W. E.) 

Myers — {Taking a flask out of his pocket.) I say, 
John. 

John — Well, vat is up ? 

Myers — I have got the agency for a Cincinnati wine- 
house, tip-top, you bet. Here is my card. If your 
boss asks about your opinion as to this wine, recom- 
mend it, and if I make a good sale it will not be to 
your disadvantage. 

John — I'll see what I can do for you. 

Myers — Where I don't do anything Old Nick's 
grandmother can go begging, {Takiny a flask out of 
his carpetbag, handing it to Jolin.) Here is a stuff 
that can't be beat — genuine importation. Recommend 
that—. 

Jou^— {Tasting it.) Patz kuckuck Beg your par- 
don, are the proprietors of your lirm Jews or Chris- 
tians ? 

Myers — How do you come to ask that question ? 

John — I'll tell you presently. 

Myers — Well, since you, curious fellow, want to 
know, they are Christians. 

John — Well, I thought so. Baptists, probably, for 
this wine is baptised at least two times, ha, ha, ha. 

Myers — You are one of those smart cliaps, who 
hear the grass grow. 

JoHN-With such imported miserable shtuff you must 
not come to anyone who undershtands anything about 
it. 



Myers— (2ayfcm^ out another flask.) Well, try this 
sample of Kelly Island. The best ever grown on 
American soil. \ Offers flaslc.) 

John — This might pass a little better. 

Enter Turner. 

Turner — How are you, John ? 

John — So, so. Thanks, and how are you ? 

Turner- -Thank you, I feel below par, have sus- 
pended specie and any other payments. I need funds, 
and would like to ask you 'whether you would buy any 
tickets for this evening's performance of my play. You 
shall have them at half price. 

John— I don't need any ! Your mother-in law 
keeps you pretty tight, I suppose Mr. Turner? 

Turner — You've got more cheek than a government 
mule to ask such questions. {Looking over tlie hotel 
register.) Count Schulenburg of whom I heard so 
much — a distinguished arrival — he certainly takes a 
couple of tickets. 

John — He arrived with a stranger half an hour ago. 
They both took a room together. 

Turner — I must see the Count. 

John — You'll have time for that yet after breakfasht. 

Turner— (T'o Myers.) Do you wish to buy any 
tickets for the theatre ? 

Myers — Do they play tragedy or comedy ? 

Turner — A local piece, whose author 1 have the 
honor to be. 

Myers — Young man, after the battle of every day 
life my mind is directed to the ideal. J am in for the 
classic drama — I only care about Shakespeare's 
tragedies. 

Johnson — Then you ought to see the farce. It is a 
mere tragedy. 

Turner— Don't believe a word of it, sir, he is only 
jealous because he hasn't written the piece. 

Myers— Jealous ! Why, that's good ! ha, ha, ha ! 

JoHN~Oh, by Joe! I almost forgot. Mr. Turner 
there is a letter for you. 'On the envelope is printed, 
" From the Editor of the Ledger." 

Turner — The reply for my contributions. I bet you 
there is a check for them enclosed. 



Johnson — I'll bet you there ain't. If I am mistaken 
I'll buy two tickets, but you must let me read the 
letter. 

Turner — Very well, here is the letter. But first the 
dollar for the tickets, if you please. 

J OHNSON — {Handing him a hill^ taking letter reads :) 

Dear Sir — Your so-called original articles all declined, thej' 
having appeared in print before. We object to any fnrther commu- 
nication being sent by you to us. Yours. The Editor. 

Johnson — Correct. Here you have got your letter 
back. You'll probably not put it into your scrap- 
book. 

Turner — {Aside.) Correct as blazes. My cursed 
luck again. ( To Johnson.) The original articles pub- 
lished before are written by me for the papers, and I 
had a right to republish them in another paper. Of 
course they didn't know that. 

Myers — A good excuse, that. 

Turner — Here is my card, send it up to the Count, 
please, I have some very urgent business yet in this 
neighborhood — am in a hurry — have got to take up 
several items yet for the Observer. Oh, we gentlemen 
of the press are the busiest folks on earth. We enter- 
tain and instruct the public. We give the news before 
it has even happened. 

John — Yes, because you have your nose in every- 
body's business. Verdammter Kerl. 

A gong is heard behind the scenes, 

Turner — I'll go to breakfast and be back in a min- 
ute. 

Myers— Ah, breakfast is ready. 

Johnson — This joke v^as a good stimulant for m}^ 
appetite. I bet you the landlord will make precious 
little on my board to-day. 

Exit Myers, Johnson and Turner, [L]- Enter Frank Milh-r, LC] carpetbag 
in hand. 

Frank — I wish to engage a room. 

John— All right, sir, will you register? 

Frank— ( Writing, then loohing over tJte hook.) Cas- 
per Holmes ! Strange, an old esteemed friend of mine, 
whom I haven't seen for years, and would not have 
expected him here. 



John — Mr. Holmes arrived about a half an hour ago. 

Fkank — I'll see him presently. 

John — Breakfash is ready ! 

Frank — Meanwhile you may send up this card. 

John— I'll bring it up myself. 

Euter Charles, LU-l 

John — This gentleman wants a room. 
Chakles — Show him up to No. 13. 
John — (Aside.) Thirteen is an unlucky number. 
(Aloud.) All right, sir. 

Exit John and re-enters immediately, [Rl- 

John — 1 say, mister, I just passed room No. 17, 
where the two strangers are, when 1 heard a coorious 
gurgling sound, then everything was as quiet as a beer- 
saloon on Sunday. 1 runs to the door and looks 
through the key-hole an' vat you thinks I see 'i The 
young shap leaning over the old man, who was lying 
on the sofa with eyes shut down. 

Charles — Well, that's very simple. Maybe he was 
taking a nap. 

John — Dunder and blitzen, but I tells you he looked 
out like one fellow which takes his last nap. And the 
stranger leaned over him, and den he looked around 
as if he had done somethings bad. 

Charles — Pshaw ! What do we care about it. The 
two gentlemen arrived together. Why, they are inti- 
mate friends. 

John— Of course you know better. (Aside.) I'll be 
hung if that pocket-book that the stranger hid so sly- 
ly didn't belong to the old man. 

Charles — John, I mean well by you, and give you 
the good advice, "Mind your own business." I'll go to 
breakfast now, you tend the desk for a few minutes. 

Exit Charles, [L]. 

John — Mind your own business veil I remember the 
school-master told me that once ven he laid me over 
the bench and whipped me because I had run to a fire 
instead of going to school. I feel curious to find out 
vat ish the matter mit dat pocket-book of the old 
man, anyhow. 



10 

Enter Sheppe, IW]. 

SoHEPPE — Go and fetch a doctor, my friend has be 
come ill very suddenly, and I fear there is danger in 

delay. 

John— So, oh? ah, yes. I know it already, sir. 

ScHEPPE — What do you know? And what do you 
mean ? 

John — One quarter of an hour back, the old man 
was stretched out on the sofa as stiff, and pale like a 
ghost, and you were bent over him taking care of him, 
wasn't you. Count ? 

ScHEPPE — How in the devil could you see all that ? 

John — Dot ish very, very simple madder. I was 
looking through that key-hole, 

SoHEPPE -And what else did you see? 

John — {Aside.) I won't tell about that pocket-book. 
( To Scheppe.) Nothing, Count. 

SoHEPPE — How dare you spy around doors ? I'll 
tell the proprietor of the hotel. 

John — Veil, you sees Mister Count, I am learning 
the profession of a detective, and the spying round 
belong to that you know. How could 1 know you wash 
in dot room before I looked in ? De other day I cotshed 
a thief in a room. He wash shust drawing a watch 
from under de pillow of a guest dot was asleep, ven 
I comes in like lightning and I grabbed him by the 
collar and bound him fast with a towel until the police 
made their appearance. The stranger gave me one 
good drink — geld. 

Scheppe — Why, you are a devil of a fellow. Here, 
take this. {Hands him a bank note.) 

John — Yill the Count take the breakfast ! it is on 
the table. 

Scheppe — Not yet. I have to send off an important 
telegram. Is there a telegraph office in the neigh- 
borhood ? 

John — Oh, yes, quite near. You turns one corner 
to the left, then you goes to the right, then to the left 
then you turn to the right and walk straight on ten 
blocks till you come to a peanut-stand to the left, and 
go into the big building where the wires run into. 



11 

ScHEPPE — All right! Yes, yes. Well, attend the 
errand to the doctor, I'll be back pretty soon. I want 
to go up stairs, I forgot something. {Aside. He is a 
blamed fool.) 

Exit Scheppe, [tt.] 

John — Oh, what a pity dis is, that I cannot run after 
him and watch him. He looks to me like one rascal 
in line clothes. 

Re-enter Johnson and Myers, LL-] 

Myers — {To Jolm.) Cigars my old sort — ten cents. 
{JoJiri places a box before him.) 

Johnson — {Tips on box.) I am the maker of this 
fragrant weed, that you like so well, and yet you 
talk llippently about my cigars. 

Myers— Well, i didn't know, I take back all I've 
said about your cigars. 

John — {To Charles,) The old man of number sev- 
enteen is sick and his companion just said he needs 
one doctor. I'll go to fetch one if you think its nec- 
essary. 

Charles— Well, you may go. 

Myers — {To Charles) Well, then you'll say a good 
word to your boss about my Kelly-Island. 

Charles — Yes my friend, of course I will ; {aside) 
those traveling Agents are an awful set, they are worse 
than mosquitoes. 

Re-enter Turner [L.] Enter Frank [0,] 

Frank — {To Charles.) Well, did you send up my 
card? What is the answer ? 

Charles— The gentleman is very sick. 

John — Not one Doctor can help the old stranger in 
number seventeen. 

Frank — What stranger? 

Charles — Mr. Holms, whom 3^ou wanted to see. 

John — He got sick and I guess it is apoplexy. He 
is not by himself. 

Charles — There are cases of heart disease coming 
on quite suddenly and resulting in the death of the 
patient ; he complained when he arrived. 

Frank — I mnst see him, heaven help that it may 
not be too late yet ! 



12 

E. Frank, LH-l 

Charles — {7'o Jolm.) What are you waiting for? 
Why didn't you bring up the trunk to number thir- 
teen as I told you before — hurry up. 

J.oHN — All right, sir. {Puts truitk on shoulder.) 
Pshaw, that is heavy, I wish we had an elevator ma- 
chine. {Going to door C.) 

Re-enter Sheppe. Paul leaning against John. John dropping the trunk. 
Paul hopping on one foot. 

SoHEPPE — Fool be a little more careful. Did yon 
call the doctor ? 

John — Look a here, I won't shtand very mush fool 
ishness you pet ! You run against me when I car 
ries a trunk, this is againsht the rules and regula- 
tions of this house. 

ScHEPPE — {To Charles.) Well, you send for the 
Doctor ; I will be back presently. 

Exit Scheppe, [C] 

Turner — Arrival of a rich California traveler — sud- 
den death — that's a big item, I am going to scoop all 
the other papers. I always got three columns of news 
that might have happened, on hand, but this is better. 

John — So? And don't gou forget this traveling com 
panion what run against me and made me drop that 
trunk. I would not trust him for one glass of lager 
beer, you pet. 

CLTKTAIN, 



ACT IL 

A pic nic ground. A stand on R. Tables and chairs LR :uid L] Har L N E. 

When curtain rises Jonuy is sitting vailed on a bench, [L] 

E. Enter Johnson, [R.] 

Johnson — {Advancing toioards her.) Ah, there is 
an answer to my matrimonial advertisement. ^'^ hy, 
you are sitting right in the sun light. Won't you 
move a little more to the right in the shade, please ? 
{Aside.) How bashful she is ; of course she can't 
know who I am, and that I am not one of those spooney 
mashers, who regard it a joke to embarrass la- 
dies. I must try in another tone. I think I'd better 
come more direct to the point, (coughing.) Madam, 



13 

the motive of your presence is perhaps not quite un- 
known to me. {She moves away from Mm oiithebencli. 
You may rest assured ma'm, that I have not the least 
intention to inconvenience you ; should I be mistaken 
in your person, however, I ask kindly your pardon. 

Jenny — I don't know — I don't understand you — 
What do you want of me anyhow ? 

Johnson — Only to ask you whether this park is the 
destination of your promenade ? 

Jenny — It is. Sir. 

Johnson — Your bashfulness, however, prevents you 
from saying more. This is very natural. But what 
do you say. Madam, if I tell you that tlie person you 
intended to meet is standing just before you. 

Jenny — Will you be good enough to let me alone. 
Besides, I am no Madam, but single. 1 am directrice 
of the [chamber] department of a hotel and I am wait 
ing for my beau. {Exit Jenny.) 

Johnson — Oh, then I must beg your pardon ten 
thousand times for having unintentionally insulted 
you ; I thought — I {loolclny up and speing that she has 
left) Oh, how stupid I was. But who is coming here ? 
Quite a frigate, full rigo-ed man-of war, but she may 
be a very good pei'son in spite of that. Ha ! it's my 
Aunt, she carries the buquet, all according to my ad- 
vertisement. It is time for me to skip. Whoa, Emma ! 
( Exit Johnson.) 

Enter Charles and Turner Society with Banner. 

Charles — Gentlemen and Fellow-Citizens ! As Pres- 
ident of the Turner Society I bid you all welcome. 
The whole world is nothing but a grand Turner Socie- 
ty. When we enter the world our arrival is supposed 
to be a good turn-out, consequently it is made the oc- 
casion of a big turn oat. We then exercise our judg- 
ment in learning to walk. At school we take a new 
turn. At the bar of life we swing ourselves upward, 
and at last we take the grand turn into the grave. In 
this regard the whole w^orld is an Athletic Club, there- 
fore bring three cheers for the Turners. Hip, Hip, 
Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 



14 

Chaiicsi iuul tho Turners k<> to the Bar. 

Charles— Make a good report of my speech in tbe 
''Obsei-ver" c'lnd I'll treat. I want to make myself jjop- 
iilar because I'll run for Council next Fall. 

Turner— All right, I'll attend to it. Oh, by the 
bye — can you oblige me by the loan of five dollars, I 
have got a little bill to meet to morrow. 

Charles — Five dollars ? That's more tlian I can 
spare. Well, my friend, take this dollar, but make it 
good, you know. {Exit Charles.) 

Enter Myers and John, arm in arm. 

Myers — Then you are a communist, I understand 'i 

John — Dot ish vot i was. All men are equal and 
their property schall be dishtribooted equal. {They 
walk up to the bar.) Give us two lager, no, vat I want 
is a glass lager for the whole crowd of beebles. a treat 
allround. Come in boys, take a smile mit myself. 

Myers — That's communism with a vengeance. This 
time you are the dupe, John, and no mistake. 

John — Never minds. Donner wetter take your beer. 
Gesundheit! I'll give you a song now. 

Myees — Here is to our Dutch friend John, may his 
shadow never grow less. 

Son^by John. 

Bakkeepek — Thirty glasses of beer is one dollar 
and fifty cents. 

John — Myers, I say, schoost pay dat little pill for 
me. I forget to take some money along, but yon got a 
two dollar bill shanged a few minutes ago. 

Myers — What ? I won't do it. If you want to 
treat you got to pay yourself. 

John— So? Veil you see lam communist. I have 
no money but you have some ; I ordered first and you 
took drinks with me, so you got to pay that pill. Yell, 
what is der madder mit you, vat do you wait for 'i 

Myers — Look here, my friend. I guess its a long 
time since you had rare l3eefsteak on your face. 

John — No indeed, but it is a devilish long time since 
I drank such sheap beer. You see, this ish vat I call 
practical communism, when the fellow who has got 
some money pays and we all drink for nothing This 
time you was the fool. 



15 

Myers— Well, well, you are a funny fellow. No one 
can have a grudge against you. Never mind, all this 
goes at the expense of the house of Cheatem, Smear- 
burg & Co., who must foot the bill. 

Exeunt Myers and John L. Enter Turner and Scheppe, K. 

Turner — Ah ! Count, how are you ? 

Scheppe — Good day, Mr. Turner. 

Scheppe— Oh ! What I want to say — yes— did you 
see already Miss Holmes whom I spoke to you about? 

Turner — She will come to the pic nic here this af- 
ternoon. 

Scheppe — Excellent. (Aside.) One of the richest 
heiresses in town without her knowing it. Yes, if I 
had not relieved the old man of his pocket-book just 
before he doused his glim 

Turner — I believe there she comes with her step- 
mother. 

Scheppe — All right, you will introduce me after- 
wards ; we'll take a walk through the park meanwhile 
and review the girls. 

Turner — But how is it Count. You a European 
nobleman, seek the acquaintance of a girl like Miss 
Holmes, who is nothing but a dress-maker living in a 
humble station of life. 

Scheppe — A whim if you please. I take a little in- 
terest in her, you know— ew passant, 1 like changes 
you Lnow, changez les dames. But we m.ust meet as 
if by chance and then you introduce me. Wait here 
for ma. {Exit Scheppe, L.) 

Enter Jenny, (R.) 

Turner — How are you Miss Jenny ? You here too 'i 
Well, this is very nice. Can I have the pleasure of 
keeping you company 'i 

Jenny — I don't know how I come to this honor. 

Turner — Time will be heavy on your hands if you 
stand here all the afternoon ; take a seat with me a 
moment. 

J ENNY — You are too obliging Mr. Turner. 

Turner — Ah, you know my name ? 

Jenny — Yes. 



16 

Turner — You certainly have read my Sunday Re- 
view ? 

Jenny— Pshaw, what do I care about reviews ? I 
know you from quite a different occasion. 

Turner— How is that? You surprise me in the 
most approved style. May I ask to what occasion I 
am indebted for your acquaintance ? I really can't 
remember- seems to me I have seen your pretty face 
beiore, though. 

Jenny — It is very simple. The other day I took a 
promenade with John 

Turner — Who is John ? 

Jenny — Why, he is my beau ! Have you any ob- 
jections to that ? W ell, John is head porter at the Union 
Hotel. JoJin^ when seeing you on the street, pointed 
you out to me, saying : ''That scamp there owes me 
live dollars yet that he borrowed while boarding at 
the Hotel. That's how I come to know you. 

Turner — Ah, yes ! Well, that's a trihe, we needn't 
quarrel about that. {Aside.) If I only could play a 
trick to John. ( To Jeany.) We'll have some fun this 
afternoon, will you stay until the concert commences ? 
and then I'll take a buggy and we'll drive out in the 
country. 

Jenny — But I won't, I want to stay here and dance. 

Enter John, (C) staggering drunk, comidg' down stage behind Turner. 

Turner — Let me be your beau this afternoon ? 

Jenny — Pshaw, I don't care. 

J oiiN—{Jumpi7ig between Jenny and Turner^ So 'i 
But I does. Here you'll get, verdammter kerl. 

Turner— Let go, Sir, or you suffer the consequences. 
1 have nothing to do with you, 

John- -But I niit you. Pay me my five dollars or 
I'll take it out of your hide. 

Jenny— You needn't be jealous, John, of that little 
dandy. 

John-- -First pay me those five dollars you owe 
me, or 

Zy.^^y- {Jumping between both ) No quarrel here. 
John leave him alone. {Exit Turner L.) 



17 

John— I want my iiVe dollars. {Looking up.) Ha, 
he has gone, donnerwetter. But why did you leave 
me wait so long? 1 got tight in the meantime. 

Jenny — You needn't tell me that, anybody can see 
it; shame on you ! I won't go with a drunken fellow. 

John— Oh, it ish not so bad. 1 could shtill dance a 
waltzer mit you. 

Jenney — But I want now to sober you up. A bottle 
of soda for myself and you take a lemonade. {They 
set down at a table^ L.) 

John — {Knocks on the table.) 

Jenny — Don't knock so loud ; people look at you, 
incontempr. 

John — So 'i 

Enter Waiter. 

Jenny — A bottle of soda and a lemonade. 

John — Well, 1 don't care if I do takes one. Ho, 
Waiter, a soda, and a lemonade mit a shtik in it for 
me. ( Waiter goes to bar and returns loith drinks.) 

John — Pshaw, I am not used to this kind of stuff. 
This is not as good as lager. 

Jenny — Now let us take a walk through the garden 
or you might fall asleep. 

John— O, I don't care, you connot flatter me this 
way, you pet. Himmel donner- wetter noch emol ! I 
am not so drunk but what I can sing and dance yet. 
{Exeunt John and Jenny, L.) 

Enter Frank, Clara rud Mrs. Schwartz. 

Frank— If I had known that my truest friend, Mr. 
Holmes, was a protector and father to you, I would 
have much sooner endeavored to form an acquaint- 
ance with you, Miss Holmes, and if I had had to cross 
the whole continent. 

Clara — When a poor orphan I came into his house 
at New Orleans. Before that time I had stood help- 
less in the world, a victim of the most abject misery 
and poverty. I can hardly remember my parents 
whom death robbed me of in my earliest childhood. 
An old Irishman took me in his house. The poor old 
man and his aged wife had hardly anything to live 
on for themselves. When I got older 1 had to earn 
my own living peddling soap and matches from house 



18 

to house. It was a scanty bread and I am shudder- 
ing still when I think of those days. One day during 
my wanderings I came into the house of Mr. Holmes. 
He had pity with me and adopted me. A few years 
later the war of the rebellion broke out down South. 
Mr. Holmes strongly sympathized with the Union and 
only by sudden flight he was enabled to save his life. 
Since then 1 never have heard of him again. His hard- 
hearted brother drove me out of the house, which he 
claimed as his own. Mrs. Schwartz, who had been in 
the service of my benefactor as his house-keeper, did 
not forsake me. We came here together, settled down 
and made our living since by hard work with washing 
and dress-making. We wrote to New Orleans several 
times about Mr. Holmes, but we got no reply. I fear 
he is dead. 

Frank — (Aside.) I will communicate the news of 
the death of her adopted father another time, {to 
Clora.) You have gone through the severe ordeal of 
life in your earliest youth already. May your future 
be so much brighter. 

Claka— (7^0 Frank.) You became acquainted with 
Mr. tiolmes in later years. Oh please tell me all you 
know about him. 

Frank — By chance I met him while traveling in Cal- 
ifornia. We shared many dangers together in the 
Rocky Mountains. I once saved his life Irom the In 
dians who made a sudden attack on our Camp one 
night, and when 1 think now — {he sighs.) 

Clara — Heavens ! You don't mean to say that he 
is dead "i 

Frank— When I left him there he was alive and 
well. {Aside.) I cannot muster courage enough to 
tell her now of my last sight of him. {To Clara.) 
Business called me to Pennsylvania last year, where I 
stayed until I was called here as Chief Engineer of a 
new^ Railroad to be built in this section. 

Clara — Then you will stay here for some time at 
least, Mr. Miller. 

Frank— I hope so ; and I have no more ardent wish 
than to stay in your neighborhood. 

Clara— You are too kind. Sir. 



19 

Pkank — I, too, am standing solitary and alone in 
this world. My childhood, too, has been blighted by 
the dark hand of fate, so you need not be surprised 
Miss Clara, if I think I have discovered in you some 
body who is sympathizing with me. I am striving for 
happiness, but sometimes it appears to me like a dou- 
ble equation in which an unknown quantity has to be 
sought for, and I sometimes despaired of the prob- 
ability of its solution. When I lived in the wilds of 
the RocUy Mountains, in the camp of the gold mines, 
that ideal often returned to my mind. 

Clara — I do nut fathom such deep philosophical 
ideas, but I do wish to feel what thorough happi- 
ness is. 

Frank— Oh, Miss Clara, if you were the unknown 
quantity of my equation, if you resembled my ideal, 
how happy I would be. 

Clara — Do you think so ? Why you are quite a 
Hatterer. Mrs. Schwartz, wouldn't you like to sit down 
at this table, it is au excellent place to listen to the 
concert and T feel a little tired. 

Fra^k— (Aside.) Ah, the old lady ! I quite forgot 
all about her. ( To Mrs. Schwartz.) Oh, yes, an ex- 
cellent place, this. 

They sit down at table, L. Enter Turner and Scheppe. 

Turner — ( To Clara.) How are you Miss Holmes ? 
Allow me to introduce you to my friend, Count Paul 
Schulenburg. {7 o Scheppe) Miss Holmes. 

Scheppe — Very glad to make your acquaintance. 

Orchestra plays behind Scene. 

Scheppe— (7^0 3Ilss Holmes) May I have the pleas- 
ure of dancing this dance with you ? 

Clara — Certainly, Sir. 

Scheppe— Thank you, the dance begins just now ; 
let us hasten before ihey crowd too much on the danc- 
ing platform. {Exit Clara and, Scheppe.) 

Mrs. Schwartz — Mies Clara is very fond of dancing. 

Frank — Is that so ? {Aside.) It is very unfortunate 
that I can't dance, at least no round dances. 

Mrs. Schwartz — 1 cheerfully allow the poor child 
this pleasure ; she works so hard all the week, and 



20 

she has so very little recreation, so T don't begrudge 
her a dance at a pic nic once in a while. 

Fkank — Especially when a leal Count leads her to 
the dance. 

Enter Charles aud Myers. Johusou sittitij'' down tit a table. 

Myeks — I delight in seeing other people dance. 
When they amuse themselves tripping the light fan- 
tastic toe 1 sit down conifortahly making observations. 

Johnson — You are right on that point. 

Myers — Only by observing the world we can under- 
stand it. 

Johnson — Yes, I like to observe the world, for in- 
stance : There at the phitforin a gentleman steps on 
a lady's dress. Now he makes he excuses. No won- 
der that she is mad, her dress is spoiled. 

Charles — And there a genlleman cau't get along in 
the dance with his lady. By -gosh, she leaves him in 
the centre of the tioor. It is very awkward for him. 

Myers — Another gentleman has engaged her al- 
ready. 

Charles — Very good for her. 

Johnson — I am thirsty. How would it be if we were 
to make our observations through the focus of hlled 
champaign glasses. 

Charles — That would be excellent. 

Johnson — Waiter! {gives his order.) There is Count 
Schulenber^, too, dancing with a pretty girl. Indeed, 
it is Clara Holmes, the adopted daughter of my land- 
lady. 

Myers- Wonder what brought him to America. 
Whether he killed somebody in a duel, or could not 
settle with his creditors, or 

Charles — He says he went to this country just to 
travel for amusement, and that he has large estates in 
Pommerania. 

Ke-enter Sohoi)pe and Clara, L. A little distan(!e after them John. Scheppo 

leads Clara to her seat, and after bowing- to her withdraws 

a few steps, C, 

Frank — If you only knew. Miss Clara, how earnest 
my feelings are. When I see how this conceited fop, 
the Count, bestows his attentions on you, I feel like 
warning you of a danger threatening you. 



21 

Claka — Well, J don't find it so. He is of elegant 
address, a fine dancer ; why should I, at a pic nic, re- 
pel his company, when the finest circles of our city 
throng themselves to make his acquaintance ? 

FKANK-Wlien approaching you witli honeyed-words 
he does not mean well by you. Appearances deceive. 
The Count is a selfish man and he would destroy your 
life's happiness without any scruples whatever. 

Sciih:ppe — Accept my best thanks for the first dance 
Miss Holmes. I shall take pleasure in calling on you 
more frequently. Believe me, the fortune of your ac- 
quaintance is as dear to me as anything I possess in 
my native country, and it I had to choose between the 
two — who knows 'i Can I have perhaps the pleasure 
of the next dance 'i 

Claka — No, thank you. Sir. This time I am too 
tired. {ScJieppe wit7tdraws.) 

Clara — { To Frank. ) To please you I refused. 

John — {Taps Scheppe on the shoulder.) One word 
Count. {To Clara) be on your watch for him. Miss. 

SciiEPPE— Insolent fellow! How dare you address 
me '] 

John — You muscht know how it was about the prop- 
erty of dot California gentleman, who came with you 
to the Hotel and there died. 

Scheppe — I ^ How do you come you to ask such an 
impertinent question ? 

John — There was no pocket-book and no papers 
found on him. If Mr. Miller, the young Engineer, had 
not told us where he came from we would never have 
known where his home was, p}^ tam ! 

Scheppe — And what is that to you ? 

John — Oh, nothing ,but that the matter looks some- 
what suspicious to me. 

Scheppe — {Dropping something in John's pocket.) 
Sir ! How dare you tell me this 'I But what is the use 
of having any words with you. Your conduct, too, 
appears to me very suspicious ; maybe the intention is 
blackmailing or worse. {Feels in his vest.) Ah, yes ! 
my watch is gone ; it is only you who can have stolen 
it. 



22 

John — So ^ Yon area liar! verdammter kerl. I 
vont shtand that. 

ScHEPPE — {To Turner^ who came near,) Please call 
that police officer over here. 

Turner goes to II W E. Enter policeman. 

ScHEPPE— Arrest this man, he has stolen my watch. 
{Pointing at John.) * 

John — It ain't trne. He is a liar. 

ScHEPPE — I saw him pntting it in his pocket. It 
was a gold, hunting-case, Geneva watch. No. 1036. 

Police — {Searching John^s poclcet and drawing out 
a. watch,) Is this the watch ? 

ScpiEPPE — Yes, it is, No. 1036, you see here ? {Opens 
watch.) 

Police — ( To John.) You come along to the station 
house with me. 

John — I cannot explain dat matter,der duyvel, or he 
musht have put dat vatch in mine pocket himself, or 
some other thief musht have done it. 

Enter Jenny. O. 

Jenny — John what's going on with you ? Wh}^ you 
look quite mad, what is it ? 

John — I am a thief he says, such a lie ! Py tarn, T 
I vant to knock him down, I vont shtand any such 
foolishness, you pet. 

Jenny — I'll scratch out hoth eyes of the fellow who 
says that. 

John — That fellow there, )pointing at Scheppe.) 

Police — ( 7o JoJin.) Come along John. 

Johnson — {To John.) This can't be true. I'll go 
along with you and go your bail. 

Myers — ^^No, you stay here John. {To Police.) The 
law don't allow you to arrest anybody without war- 
rant on the mere allegations of anybody, unless you 
have been present when the alleged crime Avas com- 
mitted. 

Jenny — I deny the allegation. 

John — And I defy the al legator. 

Charles — We'll help you John, although yon are 
only a poor working man, we know you to be honest 
and we won't leave you now. {Shakes hands with John.) 

John — Danks ray friend, many danks. 

(TABLEAU.) CURTAIN. 



23 
ACT III. 

SCENE 1. 

Arabella — Pa, dear, Miss Holmes,my dress-maker, 
wants to see you a moment on urgent business, she 
says. 

Stine — A large bill, I guess, that I'll have to pay 
because your pin money gave out, ain't it so my dar- 
ling? 

(Jl A RA — Nothing of the kind Mr. Stine. I have been 
sent here by my step-mother, Mrs. Schwartz, who de- 
posits in your bank, she was there to-day and found 
out that 

Stine — Cut it short, my time is valuable. I expect 
company, Miss 

Clara— She wanted to draw her deposit and as 
certained to her great grief that the bank had sus 
pended payments, and her hard-earned money lost 
entirely, or at least part of it. 

Stine— It is, the panic has caused this suspension 
like so many others. 

Clara — My step-mother needs the money at once 
to pay off a mortgage falling due to-morrow. Weeks 
ago already she wanted to draw this money but was 
persuaded by ihe Cashier to leave it in the bank still 
longer. 

Stine— That's her business not mine. 

Clara — And if she does not get the money by to- 
morrow, her little house will be sold by the Sheriff, 
bhe is too sick to call on you herself, therefore she 
sends me with the urgent request to exert your influ- 
ence so that she gets the money now. 

Stine — I regret that I can't do anything in this mat- 
ter. I am President of the Bank it is true, and 1 own 
stock in it, but the Bank has received 3^our money, 
not I. If the Receiver makes a settlement then Mrs. 
Schwartz will receive as much as falls due on her 
share. I cannot pay anything that the Bank owes. 

Ara-ella— But you could make an exception in 
this case, dear Pa. 

Stine— No, my child. These are business matters 
of which you don't understand anything. (7o Clara) 



24 

Yon know now what you've got to say to Mrs. Schwartz, 
good evening. 

Clara- -And this is your last word ^ 

Stine— It is. 

Claua— Then we are ruined ; the fruit of years of 
toil is gone. This is hard ! cursed be you serfs of 
mammon who see their only satisfaction in heaping 
up riches, even if you should ruin thoupands. The 
almighty dollar is your God, but the curse of your 
victims will follow you to your grave. {Exit Clara, 

C.) 

Stink— That's putting it rather strong. Well, what 
do I care about this romantic nont?ense. I remain 
what 1 am and I keep what I've got. It would be a 
nice state of affairs if any crazy girl could make me 
act like a fool and shell out. She won't get lier money 
as sure as my name is Stine. 

Arabella— Pa, you are too hard-hearted, indeed. 

Stiue— Uh, no. I only pay back to the world with 
interest, what I got from it. When I was poor I was 
oppressed, even the poorest Christian thought himself 
better than I, and made me feel it. Now I take my 
revenge for it. When I was the peddler, Isaac Stine, 
wandering with my bag from farm to farm, from vil 
lage to village, the farmers' children threw stones at 
me and called out; Jew ! Jew ! But I remained as good 
as I was before. The cents I saved became dollars, 
the dollars I invested in safe and profitable specula- 
tions. When tlie war broke out I paid one thousand 
shining gold dollars to one general for permit to sell 
boots, shoes, clothes, tobacco, oysters and whisky, in 
the camp ; then I got a permit to take away the cot 
ton taken from the rebels on our lines and 1 bought it 
from the Government for a mere song. Thus I made 
a fortune that is now invested in United States Bonds 
bearing six per cent interest without taxes, hahaha! 
{rubbing his hands.) The world takes me to be rich; 
but not hardly as rich as 1 really am. They look np 
to the Bank President because I have got money, be- 
cause they need me. They throng my entertainments 
they do homage to you. Yes, I saw that the Count 
even pays his addresses to you. 



25 



ARABELLA-Ob, he is a splendid man, ain't he Pa ? 

;Stine— What do I know ? What do I care ? I don't 
like them foppy fellows. Rather give me a solid busi- 
ness man, plain, but wealthy, I prefer him to a noble- 
man always. 

Arabella— But to please me, you would not refuse 
your conseni if I would marry him ? Ain't I even pre- 
pared for any sacrifice to reach that high purpose,and 
wouldn't I even get baptized to marry him ? 

Stine— That would be a pity. Our religion is and 
remains Moses and the prophets. Well, I can't refuse 
it to you if you want it. Your happiness is more to 
me than anything else. Since your mother is dead 
you aremv onlv support, for you I work and specu 
late. I give myself a deal of trouble, everything sim- 
ply to make vou tbe daughter of a millionaire, so that 
when I die, one day, you stand in a high and indepen- 
dent position, for you I do everything. ^ 

Arabella— Oh, Pa, then you'll do me the tavor and 
give Mrs. Schwartz her money. 

Stine— Little fool, to please you I might, perhaps, 
act so foolish, perhaps in a few days, remind me of it. 
at present impossible. I intend a big speculation m 
Western Union telegraph stock which will take all my 
available funds. _ ^ 

Arabella— Well I will take you at your word, Pa. 
{Exit Arabella and ScTiej^pe, R.) 

Enter Myers, R. 

Myers— Good evening, Mr. Stine. Do you wish to 

see me? . ^ . ^ 

Stine— Yes, Myers, I've got a very important order 

for you. . ^_ ^^. 

Myers— You make me feel curious Mr. btine. 

Stine- You know the panic has overtaken us very 
suddenly, and has shaken the Banks all over the 

country. , , , ^ • • xx ..a 

Uy^r^— {Aside.) Aha, probably he is m a fix and 

wants to discount his paper. {Aloud.) Such firms as 

you are not disturbed by the storm, they stand like 

oaks, bahaha! ^^ .„ .. • „^i. 

STiNE-Very well said, Mr. Myers, even if it is not 

quite true. 



26 

Myers — What '( Is it possible that your firm, even 



Stine — 111 this country of change nothing is impos- 
sible, I have suffered great losses by the Bank whose 
President I am. It is doubtful whether anything 
would be left for me if I were to pay my creditors in 
full to-day, happily, I've got friends who will assist 
me, if possible. If I then can buy up my notes falling 
due shortly, amounting to leOjOOOjat a discount of not 
less than thirty to sixty per cent, I would save my- 
selfjOtherwise insolvency would be inevitable and there 
would be hardly ten per cent left for my creditors un- 
der process of law. 

Myers — Ah, I understand 

Stine — The whole operation must be carried out in 
the course of this week, secretly ; of course in an un- 
derhand way, so that none of the note-holders learns 
from one of the other note -holders about the purchase 
of the papers, I give you double of the usual commis- 
sion and hold at deposit in Bank the sums required 
for the purchase for which you draw against me ; this 
is settled then. Here is a list of the notes. 

Myers — {Taking paper) I understand very well, 
hahaha ! You will be satisfied with me, good night. 

Stine — Good night, Myers, 

Myers — Gfod, what a man, he beats a Philadelphia 
lawyer. 

Stine — Ha, this will be a fine speculation. Every- 
body will believe for a few days that I am shaky, 
although just the reverse is true. Everybody will 
hasten to sell his notes at a loss without knowing that 
I am the purchaser myself. So I make at one stroke 
the trifling sum of 25,000 dollars. My creditors will be 
enraged when they find it out afterwards, but what do 
I care, business is business. 

Re-enter Arabella and Seheppe, R. 

Arabella — Ah, here you are yet, pa, instead of 
looking after your guests. They have missed you 
since half an hour and inquired for you. 

Stine — Troublesome business matters, my child, 
have spoiled my pleasure. It is panic now and you 
know that gives me a deal of care. 



27 

Arabella — Poor pa. You calculate yourself into 
the grave, if you continue that way. 

Stine— No matter, all for your welfare. 

SoHEPPE— You ought to take better care of yourself 
Sir, take life easier and do not work too much. 

Stixe — Oh, I know very well what I owe as the fath- 
er of my only daughter. 

Arabella — Come, Count, one more waltz before 
supper. 

ScHEPPE— Excellent, with you, Miss Stine, I' could 
dance to the very day of doom. {Aside.) The old man 
seems to be troubled about the panic. Who knows 
how it would be about the dower of his daughter? 
{Exit Sclieppe and Arabella, R.) 

Enter John. 

John— Dunder and blitzen ! this verflixte Count is 
blaying the first fiddle here and I've got to serve him 
the soup instead of giving him the fat by kicking him 
on his broad side and make him shut the door from 
the outhside. Vait shoost, you wind bag, I will after 
all salt your soup, scamp, I could burst of rage when 
1 takes a look at him. When I should ever come to 
keep saloon instead of being a servant, and he would 
cross my door, I will give him fits. I lost my blaze 
at the Hotel through him and I will fix him for dot. 

Jenny — Don't worry yourself, John, you might get 
the consumption and then you could not marry me. 

John — Yat consumption? Consumption of lager 
beer and bretzels ? that's what I likes. Do you see 
there how he plays the fine fellow to the Jew's daugh- 
ter? 

Jenny — Let him laugh and play. I know the world 
and I've arrived at the conclusion that society is a 
humbug. One deceives the other, and when fine peo- 
ple smile they often feel the worst. We common peo- 
ple are better off, when we feel good we have a good 
time, and when we feel bad we don't conceal it, but 
we speak out and there will be an explosion. 

Enter Johnson, [LI Mrs. Roseberry and Arabella, [R] with Scheppe, 

Arabella — Allow me to introduce you to Mr. John- 
son, Mrs. Roseberry, {who hows,) 



28 

Johnson — Happy to make your acquaincance, {aside) 
her face is pretty. {T^o Mrs. Roseherry,) May I have 
the pleasure to engage you for the next quadrille ? 

Mrs. Roseberky — It has been the first time since 
half a year that 1 go to a ball. I mourn the loss of 
my husband, who died. 

Johnson — {Aside.) An interesting widow. {7o Mrs. 
Roseherry.) This must have been a very sad loss to 
you. 

Mrs. Roseberry — Yes, Sir. 

Johnson — You ought to cheer up and forget- 



I 



Mrs. Roseberry — What are all the entertainments 
the world holds out compared to the heart of a loving 
husband. O 

Johnson — Oh, what a gushing creature. {Aloud.) 

You may be right, but -if your heart is broken by 

the death of your husband, you ought to get your 
broken heart re-paired, haha ! 

Arabella — The supper is served, come on, please. 

Johnson — {Offering Ms arm to Mrs. Roseberry.) 

May I ask you {Aside,) She wants to marry, I 

would stake my bottom dollar on that. {Exit John- 
son and Roseherry.) 

ScHEPPE — {To Arabella.) At last a moment at which 
we can converse uninterrupted. How often did I long 
for this rendezvous ; oh, Miss Stine, how splendid it is 
to trip the light fantastic toe with you. Since 1 saw 
you the first time your image has become imjmnted 
in my mind. 

Arabella — Is that so, really ? 

SoHEPPE — Arabella, I adore you, I love you, I re- 
vere you, without you I can't live. I offer you my 
hand and heart. 

Arabella — I am so awfully surprised at your offer 
that I cannot express in words how flattered I feel 
by it. 

SoHEPPE — You make me the happiest of all mortals. 

Arabella — One obstacle may be in the way. 

SoHEPPE— And this would be ? 

Arabella- My religion. 

Scheppe— That's nothing. You get baptized and 
that ends the matter. My noble cousins in Germany 



29 

will call this marriage a mes alliance, though, for the 
Schulenberg's dnte back their nobility over thousand 
years to Charlemagne, but I will defy the opin- 
ion of my relations, for I will find at your side the 
purest happiness, even if you are not born noble. 

Arabella— Oh, how happy I would feel to come 
into such circles. We will then live in Etirope,Count, 
won't Me ? At the watering-places in the summer, at 
Paris and Berlin in the winter. 

ScHEPPE — Oh, certainly, my dear, the fall we spend 
at my castle in Pommerania, then we go to the races 
at Baden-Baden. You know I am very fond of races, 
oh have lost or won 50,000 marks on one horse, upon 
my honor. 

Arabella — Oh, how grand ! 

ScHEPPE — Yes, isn't it interesting when a horse 
wins by half a length ? I tell you the whole affair is 
exciting, just about the same as when the ball in the 
roulette jumps from one section of the wheel into the 
other, balancing on the edge until it falls on one num- 
ber. 

Arabella — O, I heard of it once. 

Enter John. 

John — Supper is served and they are waiting. 

Arabella — Never mind. He's too stupid. (7b 
Scheppe.) At Saratoga, or Long Branch, where the 
fashionable world In this country spend their summer, 
there are clubs where there are such past times, but 
ladies are not admitted, unfortunately. 

ScHEPPE — Very awkward, this. In Germany, too, 
they have abolished the gambling saloons. If you 
want to follow the noble sport of the jeu you must go 
to Nice. We shall spend there the next winter. 

Arabella — But now let us hurry to pa and tell 
him the happy news. 

SoHEPPE — Oh, you needn't be in a hurry, dear Ara- 
bella, on the contrary, I wish that our engagement 
remains secret until I tell jow it is time to let the 
world know. Circumstances beyond my control, 
whose explanation would lead too far, cause me to 
make this request, which, of course, you will grant. 

Arabella — But why this delay, Count ? 



30 

SoHEPPE — My high position compels me to take re- 
gards that I cannot set aside. Only a short while and 
the secrecy that I impose upon you is dissolved, and 
you'll stand before the world the bride of Count Paul 
von Schulenberg. This secrecy is the first proof of 
love that 1 ask of you. 

Arabella — And which I grant from all my heart. 

SoHEPPE — {emhracing her.) Arabella ! 

John — {C. door.) The supper has been served long 
ago. 

ScHEPPE — {Aside.) This deucid chap comes always 
at the wrong time. ( To Arabella.) How dares this fel- 
low enter a room without knocking at the door, if he 
knows his mistress is in the room. In Europe no such 
impudence would be tolerated. {Aside.) If I am not 
mistaken it is the former porter of the hotel where I 
stopped. ( To Arabella.) Discharge this insolent fel- 
low, if you please. 

Arabella — I'll do it the first opportunity, dear 
Count. {Exeunt Arabella and. Schepi'e^ C.) 

John — {Eying the Count.) There, I have got the 
Count in hot waters again. Hardly dot smooth- 
tongued dandy has set his foot into this house and he 
is already mashter of the situation. Yes, everything 
in the world depends on cheek or brass. He has got 
more cheek than one government mule, as he said to 
me the other day. {Scene Closes in.) 

SCENE II.— Plain room, tables and chairs. Jenny, Clara, Mrs. Schwartz. 

Jenny — {enteriuQ.) Gfood morning ladies. Miss 
Arabella's compliments and she wants to know wheth- 
er her dress is ready. 

Clara — It ain't ready yet. 

Jenny— What is the matter with both of yoii. You 
look so down-hearted and sad. Things will change 
for the better one of these days, so be cheeifa.| Well 
Clara, how is it with you, how is your sweet-heart ? 

Clara — Oh, you mean well enough, but what do 
you know about cares and troubles ? You live cheer- 
ful and contented while we are oppressed with trou- 
bles. 

Jenny— That'll come out all right yet. Wait until 
you've married your engineer and then you'll be in 



31 

paradise. I wouldn't like to become an old maid 
either, cheer up. 

Clara— What grieves us so much is that Mrs. 
Schwartz is going to lose her home if she doesn't pay 
the mortgage that is due on it. You know the Bank 
failed in which she deposited her savings. 

Jenny— Oh, yes ; it's a pity for the snug sum of 
money, but haven't you tried to borrow so as to get 
out of trouble ? 

Clara — 1 called on Stine, the banker. 

Jenny— Pshaw, he is an old money bag ; he has no 
heart, you bet. J guess he has got a silver dollar at 
the spot where other people have their heart. Havn't 
you asked anybody else ? 

Clara— No. 

Jenny— Well, you are very green folks. At school 
we used to learn six from five won't go, so I borrow 
one — and the whole world to-day acts on that princi- 
ple. Well, I've saved up a little, it's a hundred dol- 
lars, you can have them if it's any use to you. I have 
got them at home in an old wollen stocking in my mat- 
tress. Such a bank will never break, it can only get 
a hole and then I mend it. 

Clara— A thousand thanks, Jenny, but it would 
not help us, it ain't enough ; we need one thousand 
dollars. 

Jenny— One thousand dollars! Lor' a mercy, I 
never seen so much money as that together in all my 
life. 

Mks. Schwaktz- In two hours the auction sale will 
be on the foreclosed mortgage. Oh, if I only knew 
where to find help. I had relied entirely on my sav- 
ings in the bank and now the bank has failed. In the 
whole city, with all my friends, I was unable to bor 
row the money ; all my hope is gone. 

Clara— Poor, Mrs. Schwartz ! Could I only do some- 
thing to help you. (Aside.) I'll ask Frank. 

Mrs. Schwartz— Dear Clara, I know that your in- 
tentions are good, but what do they avail 'i Since we 
had to leave the house of Mr. Holmes we are pursued 
by misfortune. I wish I was dead. 



32 

Jenny— Take courage, everything may turn out well 
yet, good-bye. {Exit Jenny.) 

Mks. Schwartz— I have lost all hope for the second 
time, now we are to give up our hearth and home. Is 
this not enough to drive one into despair ? 

Enter Mrs. Rosebei-ry. 

Mrs. RosEBERRY—Good morning ! Is the ball dress 
I ordered ready ? 

Clara — Yes, all except a few trifles. It'll become 
you excellently. It'll match very well your hair, and 
your complexion. 

Mrs. Roseberry — Do you think so ? Well I am 
really anxious to see the dress. 

Clara — {Ooingto a table and opening a box.) Here 
it is. 

Mrs. Roseberry — Lovely ! Indeed you have taken 
great pains. 

Clara — Yes, it cost a ^-ood deal of time. 

Enter Johnson, advancing towards Mrs. Schwartz, [L] without observing- 
Mrs. Roseberry and Clara. 

Johnson — Good morning, Mrs. Schwartz. 

Mrs. Schwartz — Good morning. Sir. 

Johnson — To-day is the first of the month, and so I 
would bring you the rent before going to the store. 

Mrs. Schwartz— Thank you ; it will be the last 
time, probably, that you pay the rent to me. 

Johnson — What ? Are you going to sell your house ? 

Mrs. Schwartz— No, but the Sheriff will sell it out. 
A mortgage of 1,000 dollars is due and I can't pay, 
the bank where I had my money having failed. Oh, 
heavens ! 

Mrs. Roseberry — {Drawing nearer.) What do I 
hear ? You to, a victim of the panic, Mrs. Schwartz ? 
Oh, I am so sorry. {To Johnson,) Ah, Mr. Johnson, 
good morning. 

Johnson — Good morning, Mrs. Roseberry. You are 
o«t pretty early already. 

Mrs. Roseberry — And a thousand dollars will help 
you out, you say ? 

Mrs. Schwartz — Yes, but who will give them to me ? 

Johnson — /will, Mrs. Schwartz. I will advance you 
the amount and you may pay it off whenever it suits 
you. 



33 

Mrs. Schwartz— What, Sir ? You wonld be kind 
enough? Oh, thousand, thousand thanks for your 
kindness, Mr. Johnson. 

Mks. Roseberry — You are a noble, generous gen- 
tleman. 

Johnson — Oh, I only act thus from a mere matter of 
comfort in order not to be obliged to change lodgings. 
When a bachelor like I am once has found good quar- 
ters it is hard for him to give them up, because he 
knows pretty well he'll only jump from the frying pan 
into the lire, so to say. Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Schwartz, 
no offense intended ; and this I would risk, if the house 
changed hands, although my business pays well 
enough to afford ten times more expensive quarters, 
still I stick to my old principles of economy to which 
I owe, to a considerable part, my start in life. 

Mrs. Roseberry — If you were to marry, how happy 
you would make a woman. 

Johnson — {Aside.) Aha ! She is gone on me, I bet. 
She is very attractive, she is lovely. {Aloud.) Then 
I would perhaps be happier than I am now. 

Mrs. Roseberry — I believe you bachelors are not 
half as crusty as you appear to be. 

Johnson — Well, it might depend on a trial. I'll tell 
you frankly. Before I came to know you I always 
had a certain dislike against widows. 

Mrs. Roseberry — Really^ and why if I may ask ? 

Johnson — It appeared to me they all assumed a cer- 
tain kind of superiority over us men. 

Mrs. Roseberry — Well, and am I one of those su- 
perior beings ? 

Johnson — {Aside.) She is a daisy. {To Mrs. R.) 
Well, no, that is to say,I think you rather are. {Aside. 
Hang it ! I came pretty near making a fool of myself. 
{Aloud.) Well, excuse me, but don't you think the 
panic has injured the dry goods trade, ah ? 

Mrs. Roseberry — I wasn't talking about the dry 
goods trade, Mr. Johnson, I was talking about the 
blessings of wedded life, but it seems to me you are 
Hying off on a tangent. This ain't quite fair. 

Johnson— (^5/^d.) She has got it bad. — You cannot 
deny ma'am, that marriage and dry goods bills are 



34 

Very closely related subjects. You can't deny it. 

Mrs. Roseberry — Mr. Johnson, I plead the soft im- 
peachment, but what of it 'i 

Johnson — I've seen the wrecks of many a princely 
fortune scattered on the highways and by-ways of so- 
ciety. And what was the cause of it ? Extravagance 
in dress, putting on style, fashionable living beyond 
their means. That's what did it. 

Mrs. Roseberry — But my dear Mr. Johnson these 
are exceptions to the rule, a good wife, such as you 
may find it in nine out of ten girls, will help her hus- 
band to get on in the world, she will cheer him uj), 
when he comes home from his days work,she will cook 
him his favorite dishes and sew on his buttons, what 
more do you want ? 

Johnson — These are the exceptions and they but 
prove the rule. Your young ladies are heartless crea- 
tures, who want to dress in style and only care for the 
money of the fellow they marry. 

Mrs. Roseberry — I say no. You are unjust in your 
sweeping assertions against our sex. 

Johnson — A sweeping wife, that's what I would 
want. One who wouldn't feel it beneath her dignity 
to sweep out the house herself, one who would bright- 
en my home like a ray of sun-light as it were, but it 
would be a very hard job and next to impossible to 
find such a wife. 

Mrs. Roseberry — Perhaps not as hard as you im- 
agine. 

Johnson — Oh, I don't give it up quite yet. There 
is no telling. In lact I believe {meaningly) I will find 
her in the sweet by and by. But excuse me, urgent 
business calls me to the Court House in the interest 
of the old lady. Another time 1 hope to have the 
pleasure of continuing this interesting conversation. 
Good morning. 

Mrs. R08EBERRY — Good raorning,Mr. Johnson. {Exit 
Johnso7i.) He does not want to understand me or does 
he simply try to fool me ? He is somewhat eccentric, 
really, but if dexterously manipulated he can be man- 
aged easily. 

Clara — Your dress is ready now, ma'am. 



35 

Mrs. Roseberry — Will you bring it to my house, 
please, in the course of a day ? 

Clara — All right. Well what do you think of our 
tenant 'i Ain't he an excellent gentleman to help us 
in our need ? 

Mrs. Schwartz — Yes, a friend in need is a friend 
indeed. Such men are rare in these times. 

Mrs. Roseberry — Yes, you may consider yourself 
lucky. Then you send me the dress and the bill, re 
ceipted, Miss Clara. Good morning. 

Clara — Good morning, ma'am. {Exit Mrs. Rose- 
herry and Mrs. Schwartz. 

Enter Scheppe. C. 

ScHEi>PE— Good morning, Miss Clara, I come to see 
how you are. 

Clara — Thank you, take a seat Count. 

ScHErPE — Much obliged, Miss Clara. I have a very 
important communication to make to you. 

Clara — 1 am at your service. 

SciiEPPE — You must have observed, Miss Clara,that 
you made a deep impression on me at our very first 
meeting. 

('LARA— I don't know. 

SoHEPPE — In your beauty and your accomplish- 
ments is the enchanting attraction you exercised over 
me. But to be brief, Clara,! love you, and I offer you 
my hand and heart. 

Clara — {Rising.) Impossible, Sir ! 

SciiEPPE — Oh, no, Clara, very natural. You recip 
rocate my feelings I know from the pic nic. Do not 
refuse me, a splendid existence awaits you at my 
side. 

Clara— And were you to offer me all the treasures 
on earth, I could not accept your proposition. 

Scheppe — J hold the key to your fortune. I cannot 
yet give you any detailed explanation about it, but 
depend upon, it it is so. Be mine and wealth and lux- 
ury shall surround you. 

Clara— True love does not care for wealth and can- 
not be purchased by it. 

Scheppe— Then your heart has decided already 'i 

Clara — Yes. 



36 

SoHEPPE — And may I ask who my fortunate rival 
is ? {Aside.) I've still got the banker's daughter, 
nothing like two strings on one bow. 

Enter Frank aurl John. 

ScHEPPE — Ah, it is him ! 

Clara — Oh, Frank, I had expected you long ago 
already. {S7ie advances towards Frank.) 

Frank — My dear darling, business kept me, and 
then I also procured John a situation as switchman 
on a way-station on our road, three miles from town, 
he having lost his place at the banker's. 

John — {Advancing towards Scheppe and eying Mm. 
Yes, by this man ! Some time ago I catch liott?! 
thieves now I place switches and keep the track clear. 
A fellow muscht undershtand many things to make a 
living if he's not a lazy loafer, like some men with a 
handle to their name are, allez hop. {Clara, Mr. Mil- 
ler and Count Schulenberg.) {Pointing at Scheppe.) 
Ausgespielt ! 

'Scheppe — Aside.] It is him who has caught the rich 
heiress. {Goes to door O, there waits.) 

Frank — This evening we will celebrate our engage- 
ment by a supper at Washington Park, invite all 
friends. IVe got a tunnel to inspect ten miles from 
town and will return by train at half past five this 
evening. 

Clara— This evening? Oh, how glad I am Frank ! 
How heavy time is on my hands when you are away. 

Frank And I am drawn from my surveys and calcu- 
lations by a magnetic force to a little room where a 
blonde, curly-headed girl, with blue eyes, is bent over 
her work thinking of her Frank ! Good bye. 

Clara — Incorrigible joker ! 

Frank — ( Observing Scheppe at the door.) Sir, you 
cannot have failed to observe, if you have the least 
power of observation, that your presence is not re- 
quired here any further. 

Scheppe — {Bowing to Clara,) Good morning, Miss 
Clara. ( To Frank.) We'll see us again some other 
time, sir, and then I'll get even with you. {Aside.) He 
must be put out of the way. 



37 



J OTii^i— (Opening door for Scheppe,) This way out, 
Mister Count, this way, next time you had better look 
for your watch. (Compliments to the door.) 

SCENE. 



ACT IV. 

SCENE 1. Little Railroad Depot. Trestlework. Bridge on RUE. Plat- 
form in front, across the stage from R to L U E. Depot 
building', L, with practicable door and upper window bench 
at side of door. When curtain rises John is rolling a keg 
across the platform. 

John — I am a railroad man now. I like that em- 
ployment better than porter in a hotel or servant in 
the house of a bloated Bank President. A keg of 
cider for the Reverend Josiah Hardwell, (smells of it) 
hahaha, dot ish good, dot bill of lading says cider, but 
the shmell says it is whiskey. Der dy vel, that white- 
chockered fellow forbids us to drink lager beer here 
in the country, but he takes his snapps on the sly. 
Dot ish the way de world goes. How many dings you 
see labelled, but when you comes to look into them 
you find quite another ding behind, and so it is mit 
peoples. Dat banker daughter. Miss Arabella, vat 
discharged me from my situation was a good girl, but 
now she is quite different. I don't know whether she 
has her label since dot Count Schulenberg, der spitz- 
bub has gone in love mit her. Well, I don't care if 
she does. But I haven't heard of Jenny for a good 
while, perhaps that fat baker fellow is courting her 
while I am gone. I'll write that postal card to her 
right away that I wanted to write for the past three 
weeks. (Draws card and pencil from his pockety sits 
down and writes.) Dear Jenny ! That's a good be- 
ginning. I cannot shtand it here any longer without 
you. I am lonely- I have found a fine lease ; how do 
they spell that, oh, yes, 1-i-z-e ; come and see me. The 
air is healthy, plenty of cows to give fine, good milk. 
I musht take a glass of lager, the lasht bottle I've got. 
(Opens bottle to drink, then s'ts down to write again.) 
Veil, what is de use to write any more. The more I 
drink lager the less I wants to write,! better closed it. 
Your loving John, Wild Cat Station, three miles from 
town. (Rises and puts card in a bo(v near the door.) 



38 
Enter Sohcppe. 

ScHEPPE — {Disgiiised as a farmer.) (food day, Sir. 
When does the next train leave here for the city. 

John — The lasht train this afternoon passed by just 
ten minutes ago. There is only two trains to pass 
here yet. One is what de (3all the inshtruction train, 
the other is the express, both of them don't stop liere 
but they run to town direct. 

Paul — Why, why, how punctual these railroads be. 
I'd been a thinking ten minutes more or less wouldn't 
make a big difference anyhow. Well, what am I to 
do? 

John — Walk to town or go to the next turn pike 
where you probably meet with a wagon. 

Paul — Well, I'll reckon I'll have to walk. Say, 
what's the use of that red Hag there. {Pointing at a 
flag loluch is at the door of the depot build mg.) 

John — What, don't you know that? That is for 
making trains shtop when the track is not clear or 
danger ahead. 

Paul — Is that so? Suppose now you want to make 
the train stop yonder ? {Points to hack of stage.) 

John — Then I would want to cross the bridge and 
plant the flag there, otherwise the train will not be 
stopped before the bridge is reached. 

Paul — You don't say so ? And do you ever stop 
the construction train for passengers ? 

John — That is again scht the rules of this road. 

Paul — If its against the rules all right. There's 
nothing like discipline, as I used to say when I served 
in the Mexican war. 

John — You are an old veteran, then ? 

Paul — Well, yes, about sixty ; but as lively as a 
young rooster yet. {Taking out fl.ask.) That's what 
keeps me healthy. {Aside.) The best sleeping draught 
in the world, opium and whiskey. {Aloud.) Take a 
sniiie of it, good old Bourbon. 

John — No, thanks, it is againsiit the rules, as I told 
you before. 

Paul — Why, it'll do you good, it's the best thing 
in the world to keep a man up when working hard, 
take a smile, do. {He puts the flask to Ms lip.) Here's 



39 

good luck to you. 

John— (Aside) He didn't take a drop. That's sus 
picious, may be he wants to make me drunk. {Taking/ 
the flask to 7ds lips.) Good luck! Gesundheit ! un'd 
lanoes leben ? 

Paul — (Aside.) It'll operate soon. 

John — (Aside,) I did not drink a drop, but I watch 
him. (Aloud.) I feel pretty tired of my day's work. 
I tells you I'd rather keep bar in the city, than work 
and shtand around here all day. 

Paul — No wonder its hard work, but I suppose it 
pays well ; don't you feel tired. 

John — Yes, I do feel sleepy. 

Paul — Take it easy my friend. 

John — (Aside.) I'll shoost make him believe that I 
was ^oing to sleey. {Ings.) "All around the market 
house, all around the eagle, that's the way the money 
goes, pop goes the weasel." ( With the last word, he 
stretches out on a bench, saying,) I am going to take 
a nap, (snores.) 

Paul— ( Watching Mm.) Take it easy my friend, 
take it easy. That fool won't trouble anybody for 
several hours to come. Twenty minutes yet to settle 
the fate of Frank's train. Now to work. (He goes 
behind th9 depot building preparing with a rail^golng 
to bridge.) This rail spiked on the track will throw 
the train off the bridge. 

John — (As soon has Paul has turned his back on 
him, he goes after him on tip toe.) 

Paul — lurning around, seeing him,) Ha, he watch- 
ed me. 

Joim — So i (rushing at him, grabbing him by the 
tJiroat,) You wan't to shtop the instruction train do 
you ? Rascal, I've got you now, I shadowed you, I 
take you prisoner, old tramp ! 

Paul — (Grabbiny him by the throat with his left 
hand, and d-rawing a sling shot loith his rigid hand 
out of a breast pocket.) No, you can't do it my friend, 
take that. (He knocks John on the head who is then 
staggering. Scheppe pushes him from the bridge. 
John falling. He is disposed of a fall of thirty feet, 
is enough to kill any Dutchman. Now to work. This 



40 

spike will fasten the tie across the track excellently. 
Its all fixed now, now a few minutes and the accident 
will have happened and the papers to-morrow will re- 
port: "Great railroad accident ; a construction train 
thrown from a trestle-work, all persons on board kill- 
ed. Among those will be my- friend Frank Miller, 
who has spoiled my nice plan on the Holmes' estate, 
by snatching Clara from me, without even knowing 
that by Holmes' last will she is heiress of a half mil- 
lion. When he is disposed of I might get the girl yet, 
perhaps, and at the worst I sell that last will to 
Holmes' brother for a big round sum, he certainly will 
pay a good price for it. 

Eater Clara, L U E, dressed plain with a red shawl on. 

Claea — It will be a surprise to Frank to find me 
here, expecting me on his return to town. But I must 
get John to flag the train, where is he ? John, John, 
oh John ! {site aduances towards R L E.) He is not 
at his post as he ought to be. I suspect there has 
been foul play. What is this ^ An old man fasten- 
ing something across the track. O, heaven help me 
to prevent the execution of this hellish plan to destroy 
Frank's train and him. 

Paul — That'll do to throw the train down. {Clara 
is going behind the depot.) 

Clara — I'll watch and pray. 

Paul — I'll hide in that depot and watch how things 
are working, hahaha. I'll take the red flag of danger 
into the house now. {he takes flag, crosses treshold of 
door.) Dead men tell no tales, it is an old saying, 
but true. 

Clara — ( Goes into the depot huilding, slamming 
the door from behind, turning Jcey.) Thank God ! 

Paul — [From the inside.'] Open that door or I'll 
shoot you. S^Knocking at door. Train whistle blow- 
ing.] 

Clara — The train is coming, I must stop it be it at 
the peril of my life. [She lakes shaiol from her shoul- 
der, hurrying to bridge C of stage, waving shaiol.] I 
must save him or die with him, for without him I will 
not live. The train is coming. [She hneels down.] 
Heaven help me that they see me in time. {Three 



41 

sJiort wJdstles heard.] They see me ! They swing their 
handkerchiefs, the train is slackening — it stops ! Sav- 
ed ? Saved ! [ T7ie forej^art of a locomotixie seen com- 
ing out of R tl E .'l 

Enter Frank from RUE, running down stag'e towards 

Claka — Saved ! look here, the track torn up and a 
tie fastened across. 

¥rai^^— {embracing her.) My angel, at the risk of 
your life you have saved me. 

ScHEPPE — [Jumping out from upper window of De- 
pot shoots at them. 

Frank — I hope you are not hurt. 

Clara— No, but worn out from the excitement and 
fatigue, [site sinks into Franks arms fainting.] 

Frank — That shot was intended for us, \\ ho may 
have been that villain ? I'll pursue him. 

Clara — [^Fainting in his arms.] 

CURTAIN. 



ACT V. 

SCENE I, Public Garden as in Act II. 

Paul — Cursed my luck,that made my fine laid plan 
fail to wreck Frank's train. Now there is nothing left 
me but to sell to old Holmes, the miser, the testament 
of his brother Fred, whereby he disinherits him, leav- 
ing his whole fortune to Clara. The purchase-money 
will be just in time to help defray traveling expenses 
for my wedding trip with Arabella. 

Enter Fred Holmes, R. 

ScHEPPE— Ah, there is the old man already. 

Fred Holmes — [adi^ancing towards him.] Ah, there 
you are, Mister Schulenberg. 

Scheppe — Count Schulenberg, if you please, Mr. 
Holmes. 

Fred Holmes — Count, what's the difference ; on 
this side of the great fish pond Counts don't count-here 
only the dollar counts, Hahaha? You telegraphed me 
the^ death of my brother to New Orleans. It was very 
considerate in you, very considerate ; and so I came 
here and 1 am much obliged to you for your kindness. 



42 
Enter John, L U E. 

John — There he is. I'll watch him. 

SoHEPPE — Did you make up your mind what to pay 
me for the last will and testament of your late brother 
Casper Holmes ? 

Fred Holmes — Have you got the testament ? 

ScHEPPE — Here it is in my breast pocket. 

Fked Holmes — Ten thousand dollars — of which one 
thousand dollars cash on delivery of the document, 
the balance when everything is correct. 

ScHEPPE — This is not enough. Do you think I 
would give away half a million for such a trifle ? 

Fred tioLMEs -Just as you think. From the copy 
you furnished of the will I see that the official certifi- 
cate is rather defective. I could contest it on that ac- 
count, if I liked. 

ScHEPPE — According to the State law of California 
it is quite correct. You would lose the suit without 
doubt. 

Fred Holmes — Perhaps, perhaps not. [Turns to 
go.'\ A bird in the hand is better than a flock in the 
bush, you know. Haha? I'll make it two thousand 
cash. 

ScHEPPE— I accept your proposition. Pay the mon- 
ey at once and I deliver you the document. 

Fred Holmes— Not so fast my friend. Do you think 
I carry with me as much money as that, and after 
dark, too? No! Call on me at ten o'clocd this even- 
ing, at room 16, Southern Hotel, where I stop. Then 
we'll settle the whole matter. 

ScHEPPE— [A5^6Ze ] Hang it! I'll then have to defer 
my departure with Arabella until to-morrow. [7o 
Holmes.'] Very well. 

Fred Holmes- At ten o'clock then ; be i3unctual my 
friend. \_Exit Holmes, R.] 

ScHEPPE— My friend ! Old rascal ! 

Enter Arabella, L. 

SoHEPPE -{Advancing towards Tier.'] My darling at 
last you come. Are you prepared for our trip ? 

Arabella— I am, you see, dear Paul, here is my 
baggage {holding up a small traveling xalise.) A few 
articles of toilet and my jewels, enough for a short 



43 

wedding trip. I know well enough pa will urge us to 
return as soon as I write him of our marriage. 

ScHappE — That would be excellent in the other case, 
we might travel direct to Europe to live on one of my 
estates at Stettin. However, before we start, I'll take 
care of your jewelry. It might get lost on our trip. 

Arabella — If you think you had better take it, 
certainly. {Opens valise, hands caslcet to Paul^who 
puts it in Ms hreast poclcet.) Here Paul, but guard it 
safely. 

ScHEPPE — Don't you be afraid my love. Here on 
my heart, which beats for you only, the jewels shall 
rest, whose splendor is excelled only by your beauty. 
{Aside.) I must look out for myself by all means. 
There is no telling what might happen, {To Arabel- 
la.) Ah ? by the way, I have got an important busi- 
ness transaction to fimsh to-night and so I'll have to 
ask you to defer our departure until to-morrow morn- 
ing. 

Arabella— Must it be, Paul ? Can't it be delayed. 

ScHEPPE — No, not without serious loss to me. 

Arabella — Well, I'll consent to your wishes, if it 
can't be avoided. 

Scheppe — My darling, before we part for to-night 
let us have a good talk in that garden house over 
there. 

John, who keeps in back grouud crosses the stage. Enter Stine, R, 

Stine— Good morning, Arabella, {lo Scheppe.) One 
word with you alone, sir. 

Scheppe — 1 am at your service, Mr. Stine. 

Arabella — Should my father have heard some- 
thing ot our plan ? 

Stine— This way if you please — so that my daugh- 
ter can't overhear our conversation. 

Scheppe — Well, sir ? {They come doion stage., R C.) 

Stine — You are not the one who you profess to be 

Scheppe — Sir ? 

Stine — Don't interrupt me until I have finished. 
Prom a correspondent of mine in Chicago I received 
your photograph taken at police headquarters there, 
with a circular wherein you are wanted for forgery. 
Your true name is Paul Schoeppe. Detectives are on 



44 

yonr trail already. 

ScHEPPE — This is not so. 

Stinb — You know very well it is. As you had the 
run of my house I wish to avoid your arrest. I there- 
fore advise you to leave this city immediately. Not 
one word to my daughter or I'll have you arrested on 
the spot. 

ScHEPPE — It is simply an intrigue against me by 
some enemy, but I yield to circumstances and accept 
your proposition. 

Stine — Hurry away as soon as possible. {Hands 
Mm a hank-note.) Arabella, we'll go home now. 

Arrabella— Good night Paul. 

Exit Stine and -Arabella. 

ScHEPPE — If I havn't secured the golden bird I have 
got, at least, his valuable feathers. Now to the hotel. 

Enter John, L TJ E. 

John — {Adxancing towards Paul.) I say, look here ! 
Hold on, hold on! don't walk so fasht, mine friend. 

SoHEPPE — Get out of my way, you damned fool. 

John — So ! Have you not lost somedings ? 

ScHEPPE — I ? How do you come to ask me that 
question ? 

John — Vat I means ish plain. You have losht that 
paper vat you want to sell to that old gentleman at 
the hotel. How can you sell vat you have not got, 
der duyvel ? 

ScHEPPE— What ? Are you crazy ? 

John — No, I guess aber not. 1 found an envelope 
what contained one big paper with a big seal on it, 
and at the top of it was written, in large letters, ''Tes- 
tament of Casper Holmes," and there was a card in 
that envelope with your name. You pet, here it is. 
{Showing Mm the paper.) 

ScHEPPE — A friend of mine, whom I had given the 
paper must have lost it. Hand it to me, here is a hun- 
dred dollars reward. {Takes a hank note out of Ms 
vest pocket, offering it to John.) 

John — So ! I will not let you off as eas}^ as that this 
time, you pet. Nix come rouse ! 

SoHEPPE — {Feeling in Ms pocket. Aside.) I really 
have lost it, give it to me at once ! {He puts Ms hands 



45 

to his- pistol pocket, draws pistol and stretches his 
other J land out for the paper. 

J GUN— {Drawing revolver from breast pocket point- 
ing at Paul.) Sh'top, Billy drop your pistol right 
away or I'll shoot you down like "a dog. I have shpot- 
ted you all along. 

ScHEPPE — {Drops pislol.) Damned ! 

John — I have got the drops on you this time Count 
Paul Schoeppe ! You are a shnide and I suspected 
you since I have seen you for the first time. Now 
you shoost tells me whetter you are not yourself dat 
friend vat loscht dat paper at the railroad bridge, and 
tore up the track,and threw me down from the bridge. 
Answer or I will shoot. 

Schoeppe — Yes. 

John — And you poisoned old Holmes and stole his 
testament. Yell, then, you can go. I mean you will 
take one walk mit me to the next police station. Jf 
you try to escape you get one blue bean between your 
rips. I wont shtand very much foolishness, you pet. 
If I had not fallen on a heap of sand at the bridge I 
would be killed and you would have it all your own 
way. Hands up, I say ! March on — one two, one two, 
to the left, one two — Eins zwei, eins zwei. Exit John 
and Scheppe^ lohips heard, behind Scene. 

Enter Mrs, Schwartz, Frank, Clara, Johnson, Mrs. Roseberry, Myers and 
other Guest. 

Frank — Here I have ordered a little wedding ban- 
quet. The Squire will be here pretty soon. 

Mrs. Schwartz — This is the finest evening of my 
life Clara. It gives me great pleasure to know you to 
be engaged to such an excellent young man as Mr. 
Miller. 

Clara — I am still shuddering when I think in what 
danger we were, both of us. 

Frank — We have so much more reason now to be 
joyful. 

Johnson — And peace is never so delightful as just 
after a skirmish. 

Mrs. Roseberry — Do you think so, really, Mr. 
Johnson ? 

Johnson — I do, it was a very good idea of Clara to 



46 

invite both of us. We are at leisure now to continue 
our conversation of this morning. ( They go to hack 
of stage sit down in conversation. 

Myers — Let them spooneys have their fun, we'll 
take a glass of champagne on the health of the couple 
that is going to be married. Fill your glasses all 
around now. Here is to the health of Mr. Miller and 
Miss Holmes. Hurrah ! 

Enter John, R. Jenny, left 

Jenny- I was looking for you John, and at last I 
meet you. Mean, sneaking. Mormon cuss, didn't you 
write me that you had got a Lotta and a Lizzie ? and 
do you really think I would live with you ? 

John- Vat you thinks, anyhow ? 1 did not mean a 
Lotta, I wrote I had got one lotte, one place to build 
a house ; and one lease, I mean one paper to rent der 
place for twenty dollars one year, for ten years. Dat 
ish a good locashin for one grocery and saloon. 

Jenny- Ah, that's it, then your spelling only is 
wrong but your intention was correct. You know it 
takes money to set up in business. 

John- Soh ? Dat ish vat makes so many business 
up-set. Ah^ yes, yes, money, dat ish true ; money 
makes the mare go as the Yankee sa3^s. I forgotten 
all about money in dese hard times, oh Jeminy. 

Jenny-- You know I lost mine in the Savings Bank. 

John— You did? Oh der duyvel ; I don't like those 
panks. Mocht nix aus ! Vait a leedle und I will save 
enough from my wages, but I've got soniedings to de- 
liver to Miss Clara. {To Clara,) Miss Clara I wish 
you much happiness and here I bring you some dings 
dat belongs to you. When I had that tight mit dat 
false Count in disguise, I recovers my senses after I 
had fallen from that bridge, I lind at my side dat big 
envelope with one big paper in it. The lestament of 
Casper Holmes, and you are named as his heiress. I 
borrowed one horse from the next farmer and so come 
here. 

Clara- The last will and Testament of my poor, 
dear step.father. Thank you John, from all my heart. 

John— The false Count had shtolen it, and he was 



47 

dat old farmer what tried to throw dat train from the 
track. 

Jenny — The villain. I thought that there was not 
an honest hair on his head. 

Frank- Then the fortune of Casper Holmes now be- 
longs to you Clara. Maybe you'll give me the slip 
now because I ain't good enough for you any more, 
now that you are a rich heiress. 

Clara— Oh, Frank, how can you talk so, bad boy ! 

John— So ? Yell, I like to see good peoples come to 
their rights and bap peoples punished. 

Enter Casper Holmes and Turner. 

TuKNER— What's going on here, I must see ? 

C. Holms— Good evening folks, ^ood evening ! 
{Frank and the loTiole crowd rising.) Here 1 meet you 
all together. It makes me feel like old times. 

Frank — Is it possible— can I trust my eyes? Casper 
Holms, my old friend ! 

C. Holms — Yes, it is me. 

Clara— Dear father, how happy I am to see you 
again. Is it a miracle ? 

Holms — Dear Clara, welcome to you. Yes, it is me, 
resurrected from the dead. That villain. Count Schu- 
lenberg, had given me a narcotic poison. I got par- 
alyzed and was pronounced dead by the doctor. They 
brought my body to the vault of the hospital, when I 
came to and was saved by antidotes. Almost two 
weeks I was between life and death. 

Turner — Why, that's a big item, I'll skoop all the 
other papers on that. {MaJces note in Ms pocket hooh.) 

Clara— Heaven be thanked ! Then I was falsely 
informed by the warden of the hospital as to your 
funeral. 

Frank — Well, so much the better. Uncle Holms 
here is my wife ! that is to be 

Holms — Well, well, that loas quick work, no wonder 
Clara you have become so pretty that he couldn't help 
being captivated by you. Well, children, take my 
best wishes, nothing shall separate us in the future, 
and I'll fit up your household. My fortune in Califor- 
nia is saved, I had tliought of you already and made 
you my heiress, Clara. 



48 

Frank — And the Count had stolen the testament 
from you. here it is, John found it. 

Holms— My money is for you to use, we will live to- 
gether right happily. 

Mrs. Schwartz- Money always comes handy when 
one goes to housekeeping. 

Turner— (T'o Frank) I congratulate you, my friend. 
I say, can't you lend me five dollars, I've got a small 
bill to pay my tailor, you know. 

JeNNY- Poverty is no disgrace, but wealth -is a very 
acceptable virtue, anyway. 

Clara- I've got a treasure here that is worth more 
than all riches in this world, a loving heart, a clear 
head and two strong arms, belong to me. {Pointing 
to Frank) 

Frank — And you I would not part with for all the 
treasures of the bonanza mines. 

Johnson — Correct. Engagements are all the rage 
like walking matches, and so I have the pleasure to 
announce to you ladies and gentlemen that we too, 
myself and Mrs. K.oseberry,are engaged to run a walk- 
ing match for life. 

Jenny — And so are we, John and myself. I am 
tired of being a servant for others, I want to rule my 
own household. If we women havn't got the right of 
suffrage we have got at least home rule. 

John — Dat is correct like one church account. 

JeNNY — Everything must be correct with me, always 
mark that down and report it Mr. Turner. 

Enter Stine, R. 

Stine — Has anybody seen Schulenberg, the false 
Count? He has stolen the diamonds of my daughter, 
worth two thousand dollars. 

Joan— y at do j^ou give me if I tell you where the 
diamonds are ? 

Stine— Fifty dollars ! 

John— Dat ish not enough. Nix come rouse ! 

STiNe— Hundred ! 

John— No, py tam ! 

Stine— Two hundred. 

John— No go. 



49 

Stine — Three, four, five hundred dollars, and not a 
cent more. 

John — I takes it, give dat money. 

Stine — I have not got it with me, but if everything 
proves correct, i will pay to-morrow. These ladies and 
gentlemen are witnesses. 

John — So! All right. Dose diamonds you will find 
at the next police station, around the corner. They 
dock them from the Count. I arrested him ; yes, I 
von't shtand very much foolishness, you pet ! Now, 
Shenny, we have got money enough to marry, and to 
shtartin the saloon business. 

Jenny — All correct! 

Holms — Hurrah for all engaged couples ! All : hur- 
rah !! ! 

(CURTAIN.) 



